Source: pink promise
“Take this and let it shatter into shreds of paper, blank paper. See the snow, see the glitter? Let it fade, child. Let it roll into the dust that gathers between the table and tiles. Let the water drain into the floorboards, the carpet. Let it spread like margarine, let it spread a magic underneath your tiptoes at midnight. I was young and curious but now my fingers are but twigs that crack and snap. Just as eggshells break into the wind and are swept up with a broom. Take this and shatter it for me. For you. If it pierces you, drink the blood and so you have lost nothing.
Now the glass is gone. This paper is the earth, crevassed and attired in streams and valleys and sand and snow and cloud. Unmapped, unchartered. It wants ink and colours seeping through its skin and you are going to map this life. It is your map and you can draw whatever you like.”
But it was just a pretty trinket and it tinkles now on the mantel and the crayons she gave me are smeared across the walls, later to be spring-cleaned away.